


Untitled

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:19:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1856158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ned and Robert's relationship in three stages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Robert loved women. Ned remembered him returning in the early hours morning from yet another of his trysts, pushing Ned to one side of the bed as he went on a detailed description of his partner’s breasts, her smooth, pale ass-cheeks, the way she trembled when he fucked her and squealed profanities belonging to a low-born peasant’s daughter as he drove into her.   
  
The Eyrie didn’t quite manage to satisfy Robert’s appetites. He didn’t have much chance to venture out as Arryn’s ward to the whorehouses, and it wasn’t easy to explain the swelling bellies of the women around them.  
  
Robert started experimenting then with the occasional boy or two. That didn’t lead anywhere. Too thin, too hard, he said, and then he contradicted himself not one month later by complaining about how the submissiveness of the boys disgusted him.   
  
Ned ignored Robert’s phases. Listened patiently to his friend’s accounts of his conquests. Tried to, at least, until Robert began his touching.  
  
He was fifteen. The age where puberty hit boys headfirst, the age of experimentations, where the days passed by in a flurry that usually left nothing but the memories of training, studying and the awkward fumbling with blushing girls in dark, inconspicuous corners. The age where rejections to offers of sex were almost a taboo.  
  
“Here, I’ll show you,” Robert said, and true to his nature, simple went ahead and did it, slowly trailing his tongue down Ned’s chest to his navel, and Ned, in spite of himself, stifled a groan and refrained from pointing out that Robert really didn’t seem to be a likely candidate as a teacher of seduction  
  
Ned bit his tongue to muffle his cry when Robert’s fingers curled around his cock, slowly fisting to the rhythm of his tongue over Ned’s nipple. It isn’t what you do with boys, Robert said. That’s different. This is between us. Between men. Ned’s silence seemed to disappoint him, but he went on with his ministrations, rough and needy and so uncannily skilful in what he did.  
  
Ned remained silent when he came, a warm burst of semen over Robert’s callused fingers and over his own stomach.   
  
“You can be so  _dour_ , can’t you?” Robert sounded more frustrated than disappointed this time, but his complaints were duly cut off by Ned reaching out to rub against the head of his cock with his thumb and forefinger, clumsily mimicking Robert’s movements, thinking that perhaps Robert would prefer that to the swift, long strokes that he used on himself when he brought himself off in the baths.  
  
Robert was vocal in his enjoyment. Here, no, there, harder, faster, slower, fuck, that’s right. And Ned finally understood Robert’s frustration, when his fingers slid over the slit of the head of Robert’s cock, over the foreskin, down the smooth underneath as he deftly followed Robert’s instructions, understood how hard it had been for Robert to judge the preferences of an unresponsive partner.  
  
Robert had no qualms in announcing his climax, his semen splattering over Ned’s fingers as he growled out his release, his hands clutching convulsively at Ned’s fingers.  
  
“Don’t deny that it was good.” Robert’s voice was thick from the aftermath of sex, his hand impatiently pushing away the hair matted against his forehead as he barked out a satisfied laugh.  
  
Ned laughed along, the semen cooling into a thick crust over his fingers.  
  
***  
  
He didn’t expect Robert to extend his experimentations to him, although he was admittedly being foolishly naïve.   
  
“Fuck, lighten up,” Robert said exasperatedly while he started fisting Ned’s cock. His touch, strong and familiar, right at the border of pain and pleasure and falling on the right side, was almost enough to drive Ned over the edge right then, which Ned thought was supposed to be what he was doing until he moved his hand back up to lightly stroke his stomach, and even further up to lightly brush against a nipple.  
  
Ned reached out to stroke Robert’s erection, noting detachedly that Robert unconsciously thrust against his palm in order to get more fiction before hurriedly restraining himself.   
  
“Ned.” And Robert’s lips were upon his. Pressing down roughly, very unlike the ladies Ned had kissed before, not pliant and giving, but chapped and thick and alien with the aftertaste of wine. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but it was hardly an unenjoyable experience, this crashing together of lips, teeth, and tongue as they fought to make each other give way on basic instinct.   
  
Ned drew back with a curse when he suddenly felt Robert’s fingers, slick with oil, probing at the entrance at the cleft among his buttocks  
  
“Robert, what do you think…” he managed to growl out before yelping as a finger suddenly invaded his opening. The finger pressed on relentlessly, pushing in until he could feel the second knuckle, stretching and preparing, soon accompanied by a second, and a third, and then the fingers were removed and Ned felt something else against his arse, something slippery and hot and hard.  
  
He moved before he knew it, his leg straightening almost reflexing at the slight burning pain at his entrance. Looked up just in time to see Robert crashing to the floor.   
  
Robert lay there for a moment before slowly getting up, and when he lifted his face, Ned saw a thin trail of blood trickling down his forehead from where his face had connected with the hard wood.   
  
“Ned.” Robert winced as he rubbed a spot on his chest gingerly.  
  
Ned met his gaze calmly, holding it until Robert flinched again and looked away guiltily.  
  
“I’m sorry. I should have asked.” Robert would have sounded almost remorseful if it weren’t for the petulant tone to his voice. “I just wanted…Ned, it’s  _you_.” He sat down carefully next to Ned, his hand still rubbing at his chest, still not meeting Ned’s stare.   
  
Ned allowed the silence to remain.   
  
“Ned?” Robert turned around, and Ned felt soft kisses against his brow, travelling down to his jaw, tracing the edges of collarbone, further down, until he finally felt his cock encased in a tight, wet warmth as Robert took him into his mouth.   
  
“Ned.” Robert’s lips were swollen and chapped when he finally looked up, and a thin line of saliva ran down the side of his jaw where he had forgotten to wipe it off.  
  
Ned grunted in response and lay back.  
  
It burned, Robert’s cock stretching him to a point his fingers hadn’t, filling him in a way he didn’t possible; it felt strange, awkward, uncomfortable. He could feel Robert pulsing in him as Robert started moving in short, erratic strokes; his friend’s eyes closed in pleasure as the blunt, thick length of flesh moved within him.  
  
A faint thrill of arousal shot through his groin when Robert started stroking him, and the pleasure grew as Robert gained more control over his pace, angling his thrusts and moving at a steadier rhythm.  
  
Robert pressed against him, around him, pressing his lips clumsily everywhere he could reach, frantically speeding up his rhythm, his eyes gathering the blank look that Ned always saw when Robert neared completion. A few more thrusts, and Robert was collapsing onto him as Ned felt himself flooded with warmth just as he came in response to Robert’s pulls on his cock.  
  
“All right?” Robert slurred sleepily.  
  
It was uncomfortable, the normal relief after release now coupled with a burning ache and a most awkward stickiness in his ass.  
  
Ned didn’t bother replying, for Robert was already fast asleep beside him.  
  
***  
  
It took Ned a few months before the realisation sank in. There was never a war in the first place; only murder, revenge, and hatred, hidden beneath the façade of righteous rebellion. The scent of death hung heavy across the shores of The Trident, sweet and nauseating, the smell so familiar it was both sickening and comforting.   
  
The sight of the rivers flowing red with crimson blood as the screams of the dying were drowned beneath the frenzied cries of battle seemed to excite them, stoke the passion for blood and drove the frenzy a few notches higher. Ned had seen its effect, not felt it himself, but had seen enough to know the addictive quality of war.  
  
Robert saw nothing wrong in losing himself in lust in the heat of war-fever, amidst blood and death, the smooth sliding of skin over skin, tangy smell of sweat blending in perfectly with the stench of decay around them. It had certainly seemed natural enough after yet another one of their bouts, the frequent result of the residue of their blood-frenzy, where they clashed their swords into each other’s in an effort to release the pent-up anger and frustration from months of battle. Robert was strong, stronger than he was, but his speed made up what he lacked in brute strength, and their duels usually left them both on their knees, exhausted and whole unsatisfied. It was easy enough to convert all that blood lust into a different kind of desire, the hunger for sex and dominance and all the things this whole dreaded war was being fought for.  
  
Robert was always a man for battle. He was a highly strung youth, easily provoked into physical battle, yet easily cowed in an exchange of verbal assaults. Words were wasted on Robert, who dismissed everything he did not want to know and ignored truths he didn’t want to admit.  
  
“This is insanity,” Ned told him calmly, even though he didn’t know what he was referring too, this senseless rutting or the wild bloodlust that has overcome them. Robert never replied at times like this, too busy touching, feeling, and Ned simply turned away at Robert’s nonsensical grunt, stomach churning at the  _wrongness_  of it all, and yet not able to stop the heat rising in his groin as they moved together almost frantically, cock sliding against cock with strength hard enough to make him sore.  
  
It ended soon enough, like every other one of their sessions, with Robert slumping onto him, sweat and semen pooled stickily on their stomachs.   
  
Ned pushed him off as he swiftly rose, already aching to rid himself of the stickiness on his body. Robert grunted as he fell onto the hard mattress, and Ned felt his hand being caught in an almost painful grip.  
  
He looked back to see Robert’s eyes closed, chest heaving rhythmically in slumber.  
  
***  
  
Jaime Lannister was lounging comfortably on the Iron Throne when Ned entered the throne room.   
  
Their gazes met for a long while before Jaime shrugged carelessly and leapt off.   
  
“Was only trying it out for the King. I have to say it’s horribly uncomfortable, I’m afraid.”  
  
He stopped by Ned’s side as he strode past.   
  
“I pity the man who has to sit upon it,” he said. Ned turned to look at him. A sworn brother of the Kingsguard.  _Kingslayer_. He was young. Brash. Proud. Confident.   
  
It was not in Ned’s nature to dislike a man at sight, but he already distrusted Jaime Lannister with a vengeance bothering on hatred.  
  
***  
  
Robert was delirious with victory of avengement. It tasted hollow to Ned, but to Robert it was almost intoxicating after the hatred and animalistic thirst for revenge of the past few months.   
  
He closed his eyes and tried not to think of the baby flung to death. Or the woman brutally killed.   
  
Robert’s scars were rough under his fingers as he leaned down and traced them slowly.   
  
“Fuck, Ned, you take forever,” Robert growled before pulling his hand down to his already half-erect cock. Ned paused briefly before taking it in his hand, feeling the deep thrum of need underneath the smooth skin and seeing the flicker of hungry lust in Robert’s eyes as he slowly ran his fingers down the its length.  
  
Robert cursed under his breath and took hold of Ned’s erection, roughly fisting it with a rhythm that was completely unlike that of Ned’s slow, languid strokes.  
  
 _Robert condoned it all_. Robert tightened under him, the hardness of his cock equalling Ned’s own, both of them more accustomed and responsive to each other’s touches almost more than to their own.   
  
Ned paused in the middle of his ministrations, resulting in a frustrated growl from Robert before Ned pressed a finger against his entrance.  
  
Robert’s eyes remained trained on him, dark and lust-filled, as Ned ran his finger in steady, firm circles against his opening. Robert winced a little when Ned slid his finger in slowly, gently probing and easing his way in, but did not protest against the intrusion.  
  
Another finger. More depth this time. And he carefully parted his fingers, scissoring them slowly as he lightly stroked the head of Robert’s erection with his other hand. Tried not think of the shattered child upon the rocks. Robert groaned in pleasure as Ned slowly sped up the movements of his hand upon his cock. A third. And Robert howled as Ned managed to brush across the correct spot, writhed as he crooked his finger at the right angle.  
  
It was then that Ned removed his fingers, parted Robert’s legs and leaned forward, positioning himself and moving in at a painfully slow pace, inch by inch. Robert reached up and pulled Ned down, grunting at what must have been pain as Ned slid fully into him but still thrusting up to urge Ned on.  
  
Ned stayed where he was, ignoring the movement of the body beneath him as he acclimatised himself to the tightness around his cock. He took a deep breath before he drew back to the edge of Robert’s entrance, pausing briefly before sliding back in again in one firm stroke. Robert pulsed around him, tightening as he forced his way in, almost tight enough to hurt like Robert’s touches always were.  
  
They move smoothly against each other as Ned started thrusting in long, sure strokes. Robert arched his back, threw his head back in pleasure when Ned managed to hit that particular spot, the muscles of his arms flexing as he angled himself to meet Ned’s movements, the dark lust in his eyes replaced by an almost blind need for release.  
  
The smell of musk and sweat hung so thickly in the air it was almost oppressive. Ned moved his hand down to Robert’s cock again, stroking it in rhythm with his thrusts, moving a little faster now, but still slow enough to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible  
  
A few more minutes, and Ned felt Robert tightening around him as Robert arched against him, howling out his release as he climaxed in hot, sudden jerks over Ned’s fingers and stomach.  
  
It took Ned only a few more strokes in Robert’s still convulsing channel before he came as well, barely able to ride out his pleasure before he quickly pressed his hands onto the bed at both sides of Robert to brace himself from slumping against the other man.  
  
He saw Robert, eyes still blank from the aftermath of his release, with his chest coated with a thin sheen of sweat, and his dark hair matted messily to his forehead. He leaned in at a sudden impulse, but jerked back before his lips could connect with Robert’s, quickly pulling himself away and finally ending up in a sitting position by the side of the bed, still breathing heavily, either from sex or unsettlement.  
  
Robert, still trapped in the afterglow of his climax, did not notice his momentary discomfort.  
  
***  
  
“Promise me.”  
  
 _Gods, Lyanna. You were foolish_ , he wanted to say, but did not.  
  
Lyanna. Flaxen curls among red petals and blood; the musky scent of death mingling with the too-thick rotten fragrance of decaying roses. She pressed her hand into his, her palms wet and sticky and not like her at all, and he found himself agreeing faster than he wanted to.  
  
***  
  
“The children were innocent,” he whispered softly.  
  
Robert’s eyes flashed in almost bestial fury. “Innocent like Aerys, who boiled your brother and murdered your lord father, like Rhaegar, who fucked Lyanna to death. You, of all people, should not…”  
  
“I, of all people, am in the best position to say this.” His voice sounded hollow to his own ears, and he hoped that Robert, being Robert, would trudge ahead in his own fury and not notice how weak his argument sounded.  
  
 _Promise me._  
  
The dead children were as innocent as Lyanna’s demand of him.  
  
The silence stretched out awkwardly between them as they sat side by side, Robert’s shoulders trembling in uncontrolled anger as he clenched and unclenched his fists.   
  
“Is that why you’re so protective of your bastard?” Robert spat, “Is it because you see those dead Targaryen scum in him, is it because you think he would be exactly the kind of bastard Lyanna would produce if...”  
  
In a rush of anger, he found himself tackling Robert to the ground, fist held up high in the air, trembling in effort to refrain from pummelling the man who was now his king.  
  
“It is true,” Robert hissed, even though his voice was stricken with guilt for the insult he had unwittingly delivered, “Rhaegar, the fucking cretin born of incest, deserved everything he got for what he had done to Lyanna. Everything, right down to the death of his scum.”  
  
Ned let down his fist in resignation, the surge of anger he experienced gone as fast as it had come.  
  
“Ned,” Robert caught his arms to lock him into the position of straddling his stomach. Robert’s eyes didn’t quite meet his, and Ned knew that was about as close an apology, or even an admission of fault that Robert was going to come to.  
  
He pulled his arms away and got up.   
  
“I apologise, Your Majesty.”  
  
He felt the warmth of Robert’s gaze upon his back as he closed the door, and tried to forget the familiar heat of Robert beneath him.  
  
***  
  
“Does Catelyn know?” Robert’s voice sounded thick and muffled under the influence of wine.   
  
“She will.” Ned stared at the goblet in his hands for a moment before lifting it up and swallowing it in one gulp. The wine tasted horribly bitter.  
  
“Of Ashara Dayne?”  
  
“Cat would know enough.”  _She will learn nothing._    
  
Robert laughed a little too heartily. “You were always one to play by the rules, Ned. No one would have expected this from you, and I doubt Cat, if she is the woman I think she is, will think she knows enough, no matter how much you tell her.”  
  
The last barb came before he knew it.  
  
“You Starks and your sense of honour. What would Lyanna have thought?”  
  
Robert tangled his fingers in Ned's hair. Ned felt his fingertips against his forehead; thick, callused, and clumsy with wine and hatred.   
  
“Lyanna was not the person you think she was,” he said softly, not answering the question. No one could defend herself better than Lyanna could.   
  
Robert did not hear it, though; he was too caught up in his haze of inebriation, not even noticing it when Ned turned away from the fumbling brush of his lips.  
  
***  
  
“The Lannisters can’t be trusted.” Ned was starting to tire of this litany.   
  
“They helped me gain my throne.”   
  
“It does not justify allowing them to rise as swiftly and surely. Your Majesty, Jaime Lannister…”   
  
Robert laughed dismissively. “That stunt he pulled in the throne room? Gods, Ned, how long do you need to harp on that? Which man doesn’t dream? I would have got a crown to go along with it if I were him.”  
  
“The Lannisters are loyal only to themselves. Tywin Lannister…”  
  
“Forget it, Ned. They were doing what was needed to save their own skins. We all were. Are you going to condemn everyone on our side?”  
  
Robert patted his shoulder jovially. “Perhaps Cersei might be able to change your mind.”  
  
Ned recalled Cersei’s uncanny likeliness to Jaime. Remembered the wild gleam and arrogance in her eyes that even Jaime lacked.   
  
Robert shrugged and threw his arm around Ned’s shoulders. “At least she doesn’t look bad, and remembers my name better than you do.”   
  
The closeness felt almost stifling.  
  
***  
Was that Sansa crying?  
  
He thought of his promise to Lyanna. To Robert. Lyanna would have understood. Robert would not. Or perhaps he would have. He didn’t really know Robert anymore.  
  
The bright glint of steel flashed in the early morning sunlight.  
  
***


End file.
